Kilroy
will be personified again, but instead of another ill-conceived Catch-22 sequel, it is two deadbeat Japanese
taggers who have assumed the famous graffiti moniker. They are about to go
viral for their use of a missing woman’s “wanted” poster. Is this the final
appropriation of her dignity or are they keeping hope and her memory alive? To
answer that question, we will flash forward and backwards through episodes of
Haruko Azumi’s life in Daigo Matsui’s Japanese
Girls Never Die (a.k.a. Haruko Azumi
is Missing, trailer here), which screens during this year’s New York Asian Film Festival.
Azumi
life is rather thankless. She works as an “Office Lady” for two Mutt and Jeff
sexists and lives at home with her parents, who basically consider her their
errand girl. When she runs across a former classmate living in her
neighborhood, she quickly develops a romantic attachment, but Shoga the slacker
is not worth her unrequited ardor. Inevitably, he two-times her with yet
another former classmate. Indeed, class ties are a form of social destiny in Never Die.
In
short, Azumi is rather entitled to feel resentful. However, it seems she is not
the only one who feels this way. During the months leading up to her disappearance
and the two years after, a gang of uniformed high school girls, led by the
mysterious JK, has been stalking and beating unenlightened male pigs. In fact,
we will see some of the everyday villains of the film get their painful
comeuppance at their hands (and feet). Sadly, Yukio and Manabu, the taggers
behind the exploitation of Azumi’s image probably are not on the side of the
angels either, especially when it comes to their treatment of their third
accomplice, Aina Kinami, whose desperate need for affection makes her easy to
take advantage of.
There
is a powerful film buried inside Never
Die, but the constant skittering forward and back along the narrative time
frame actually undercuts its potency. Arguably, it would be more effective to
see the tragedies unfold and connections get made in a deliberate step-by-step
fashion. It is also hard not to wonder what the film would have been like in
the hands of a stylist like Tetsuya Nakashima. Thematically, it is dead-solidly
in his wheel house, alongside Memories of Matsuko and Kamikaze Girls.
Matsui, who previously helmed Wonderful World End, clearly has an affinity for youthful angst, but he does not have
the bravura visual sensibility the material cries out for.
Nevertheless,
Yu Aoi is so breathtakingly perfect as Azumi, not even the most heavy-handed
director could undermine her portrayal. It is a heartbreaking turn, in large
part because she never asks for or expects the least bit of sympathy. The irony
of the former teen sensation so convincingly playing Azumi, the desperate
thirtysomething, layers on further resonance. She defines and dominates the
film, but Mitsuki Takahata is also quite poignant as the too cute Kinami.
